My Scars
by True Colours
Summary: In order to break a thing, you must first touch it. This holds true for hearts as much as for anything else. Oneshot. PxL


**My Scars**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Tokyo Mew Mew or anything therein. They are the property of Mia Ikumi.

**A/N: As you all know, I am only capable of writing PaixLettuce fluff. So I was lying in bed a couple of nights ago, nursing a cold and trying to cheer myself up with some of said fluff, when Pai said something mushy and my fevered brain jumped tracks without provocation and produced this. **

It's been too long since he last stood in front of this blue-painted door. He's been able to come more and more frequently over the last two years, as the Mew Aqua takes hold of his planet and his people grow secure, but it still feels like an age. He rings the bell, a formality he always observes even though he can teleport inside, and the door is quickly pulled open.

And there she is. His miracle. The most beautiful thing on two worlds and in all the space between.

Midorikawa Retasu.

'Good evening, Retasu,' he says formally, inclining his head. And then, as she steps forward and wraps her arms around him, he takes a softer and more familiar tone. 'I've missed you.'

'I'm glad you're here,' she tells him, smiling that sweet smile. 'Come in!'

He sits down with her family and Mrs Midorikawa serves them their evening meal. It still seems a little odd to her, and even a little frightening, to have this grim alien soldier, erstwhile attacker of her planet, moving around her home and courting her daughter, but over the years she has learned to tolerate him, even to like him. Her husband certainly enjoys his company, and her son Umi rises to the mixture of respect and expectation with which Pai treats him, a leftover from his soldiering days. And she enjoys giving him food. He eats their simple meal of rice and pickles in slow, savouring mouthfuls, quiet and appreciative, the urge to bolt perfectly restrained in each muscle. She can see a childhood's worth of hunger in his movements, and it makes him somewhat more accessible to her.

'Seconds?' she offers.

He smiles. 'Yes please.'

Lettuce is done. She props her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands and fiddles with a lock of her hair while she waits. Pai eats his second bowlful of rice, more quickly this time so as not to keep her waiting, and catches her eye.

'_Gochisosama deshita_,' she says, bowing. 'Please may we leave the table?'

'Of course,' Mrs Midorikawa nods, getting up herself and beginning to clear the dishes. She turns a blind eye and leaves them to their own devices, though she has a fairly good idea of what they're doing when they disappear off upstairs.

* * *

Sex.

It was an accepted biological process for him long before it began to play a role in his own life. Later he considered it a tiresome necessity, like the consumption of food or the scratching of an itch, for the relief of certain inescapable needs.

But with Lettuce it's different. The expression of love, of devotion, the fulfilment of desire, and the most powerful emotional release. During all those long years of training and war he taught himself not to laugh or cry, not to shout out in reaction to pain, not to let his men see when his heart was failing him. But with Lettuce he doesn't hold back. Not only doesn't, can't. He keeps silent for as long as he can, because that makes the cries worth more when they come – he wants her to know that only she can break his control. As long as they're only kissing, he possesses himself beyond the occasional sigh of pleasure, but when she bends and takes him in her mouth the gesture all but overwhelms him. He groans aloud as she massages him with her tongue, relaxing her mouth and taking him all the way to the hilt, doing all she can to bring him the most aching, exquisite pleasure…and then she releases him and clambers into his arms, her legs winding around his waist in a four-limbed embrace, he's holding her and they're close, closer, as close as they can possibly be without…without…and _oh, Kami-sama_, he's inside her, her walls a warm slick wetness sliding down his shaft and closing tight around him, gripping him possessively as she straddles him to the bed. He clenches his teeth as she rides him slowly into ecstasy, breathing only when he has to gasp her name. She's breathless too: he's skilful even when he's drowning, using his hands to stimulate the places his penis can't reach when he's inside her. He watches her mouth twist with the sensations, then has to pull that mouth down for a kiss. She trembles around him, and climaxes a moment before he breaks, spilling inside her in helpless spasms while his hands lock in her vivid hair.

_Retasu_.

Afterwards he lies sprawled amid her tangled bedclothes, panting his lungs slowly back into rhythm while Lettuce rests on her elbows above him, idly running her hands over his torso and arms. When she comes to a scar she lingers over it, her expression still mussy with afterglow, but intent. He's told her where each one is from at some point in the past: the punishing lash of a trainer's whip across his back, the long red line down his thigh where he fell, foolishly, amid shards of ice, the silvery nick on his jaw from Kish's dragon swords, and the bleached-white splotches, happily few in number, which came from her own attacks.

'I never knew we were so dangerous to you,' she murmurs, stroking one of the burns.

He kisses her temple. 'Don't think about it now. Be happy. We're together.'

'Hai,' she agrees, but she sounds doubtful. Pai braces himself for further steps down this uncomfortable route. 'There's so much you've been through, Pai-kun…so much I can't even imagine. I don't know how you managed to be so brave…'

'I had to stay strong,' he answers, 'for my people. Because they needed hope. I even tried not to let Kisshu and Taruto know if I had sustained a minor injury during one of our battles, because I didn't want them to let fear in. Some of our people still like to think that we won a glorious victory, rather than receiving the Mew Aqua as a gift, but they…they don't know how hard it was, at the time.'

'You could tell them now, though, couldn't you?' says Lettuce. 'Now that it's all over.'

'No.' Pai shakes his head. 'It's…it's not something I want to share. I don't want them to realise how nearly we were broken.' He cups her cheek, meets her eyes. 'You're the only one who's allowed to touch my scars, Lettuce.'

He looks into her eyes. Wide blue water. And then he looks at the shapes the muscles around them are forming, and he realises that she's looking at him strangely. She frowns.

'Pai-kun,' she says, 'I…I don't like it when you talk like that.'

'I'm sorry,' he answers simply. And instantly he realises that it's nowhere near enough. There's something in the atmosphere that has never been there before. It doesn't feel right.

'Lettuce, what's wrong?' he asks.

'Gomenaisai –' She drops her eyes, tries to lie down and bury her face in his shoulder. He holds her away and wriggles into a sitting position, cupping her face in his hands.

'Retasu, tell me,' he insists. He means to sound tender, but maybe too much intensity comes through in his voice. There's never been so much as a ripple on the surface of their love before.

'It's…it's just…you sound as though you've got the whole world on your shoulders. There's so much you've gone through, that you're still going through, that I can't understand…'

'And it makes you feel inferior?' he asks.

'No, not inferior…'

'Good. Because you know that there's absolutely nothing to envy in suffering; the only good thing it ever brings is understanding, and you already have that, more than anybody I –'

'Yes, yes, I know!' she breaks in, gesturing with both hands held flat. He falls silent. 'It's not that I feel inferior, it's just…' She looks down, swallows, and then looks him straight in the eye. 'There's nothing I can do to change that for you, and I hate being with someone I can't help!'

He looks at her levelly. 'Lettuce, are you breaking up with me?'

'No!' She's instantly horrified. '_No_, that's not what I said –'

'I didn't ask what you said.' If there's one thing that frustrates him about Lettuce, it's her reluctance to hold her own. She should trust him enough by now to speak her mind around him, should know that he'd rather she did…

'When I said "being with," I meant as in being in the vicinity of, not in the sense of "dating"…I didn't mean to say…'

'Retasu, it's a word.' He takes her hands. 'Why are you telling me about a word?'

She shakes her head, eyes fixed on the bed, her fringe falling forward to hide her face. 'I'm sorry,' she whispers. 'Please forget, it's nothing…'

'Then why are you crying, Lettuce?'

Her head snaps up. 'Because…because…' Her mouth works, pressing together around the words, and then they seem to force themselves from her. 'Because I feel suffocated!'

He drops her hands; they fall limply into her lap. 'Suffocated by me?' he asks.

'_I feel suffocated by you_!'

He meets her eyes and doesn't move, but there's a ringing in his ears. Everything seems to be tipping and sliding, a long, dizzying fall that starts out slow but speeds and speeds, heart racing, wind screaming, world disappearing…

He doesn't know what his face looks like. But Lettuce is looking at him with an expression of fear.

Fear.

_I could kill her_.

The thought drops into his mind like a stone, and his fall jerks abruptly to a halt. The idea steadies him. Even though she's just spun his life into chaos as easily as a child with a top, he retains this last, ultimate control. He can kill her.

Wrapped in this icy knowledge, he climbs from the bed and turns to her.

'I understand.' He picks up his shirt.

His mind is screaming at him. _Stop! Don't be so proud. Sit down with her, embrace her, tell her you're sorry and forget all this! Don't leave…!_

'Pai…' she whispers. Her eyes are brimming with tears, as luminous as the moon. They seem to be pleading with him, but he can't tell what for. She doesn't say, _come back_.

'Shall I leave, then?' he asks, stepping into his pants.

'I…' She falters, blinking the tears away. 'Yes. Maybe you had better go now, for tonight.'

_Forever, then_. He turns away. _Oh, Lettuce, call me back. Come after me. Hold me, kiss me, tell me you love me. I need you_.

He teleports.

* * *

It's the longest night of his life, largely because there is no escape from it. He knows he had an obsession with her, this kind, gentle girl whose very hair and eyes meant springtime in his wintery world. His obsession won't allow him to go out and find any distraction from her. His practicality won't allow him to find a physical outlet for the pain. His realism won't allow him to make the petty evasions another might make – '_I'm well out of it…I don't care…she was far too withdrawn anyway…_' And his heart won't let him forget her for a single second.

He can't deny his feelings, but by morning he can feel angry. He decides that he will have an explanation, no matter what. It would be nothing short of immature to walk out of a long-term relationship without so much as a parting conversation, so after breakfast time he teleports to her home and knocks on her door once more. He steps back and waits, and for a moment the memory of this action yesterday rises up so strongly in his mind that he's almost standing in it again. He bites his tongue and tries to hold himself together, and then Lettuce answers the door.

Her eyes are round and wide, but her face is calm. When she sees it's him, she steps out of the house and quietly shuts the door behind her. Then she meets his eyes and waits.

'Oh, Lettuce,' he says pathetically, and then, 'Lettuce, why?'

'I'm sorry,' she says, her voice whisper-soft. She shakes her head. 'This is all to do with me. You haven't done anything at all.'

He sees that there will be no going back. Not only will not be, but cannot be. It only takes one bad apple to spoil the whole barrel. A single drop of hate is souring all his love, because he does hate her. Not nearly as much as he worships the ground she walks on, but just a little, because he needs her so badly and now she's turning him away. He can't go back, even if she would take him. What would their lovemaking feel like after this?

'You want to end our relationship?' he clarifies.

She nods quickly. 'Hai.'

'Lettuce, I love you!' He's surprised by how easily the words still spill from him, but then again, they're true enough for the purposes of this conversation.

'Yes!' she shouts, and suddenly he sees how hard she's struggling to make herself be cruel. 'That's the problem!'

For a moment that almost interests him out of the pain. 'I don't understand,' he says. 'It's because I love you?'

'Yes; because you love me too much.'

'I'm sorry.' He stretches out a hand to her. 'I'm sorry if I was too possessive –'

'_No_, it's not like that!' She shakes her head, pushing her hand distractedly through her hair. 'It's because you treated me like…like some kind of _angel_. It was as though you were sinking and I was your lifeline to everything that you wanted to believe in…I'd kiss you and you'd look at me like you had to hold on to me or drown!'

It's a terrible thing, knowing that all the time the gestures you thought were conveying your love for someone were chipping away at their patience with you. He has to close his eyes for a moment and breathe, but then another shot of that icy calm from yesterday hits him, turning his struggling emotions into a short-burning flare of anger.

'So this is what it comes down to, is it, Retasu?' he demands coldly. 'You don't want me because I'm damaged goods? You want someone young and carefree instead?'

'Stop it!' Lettuce flares back at him. All those years he spent wishing she would grow a backbone… 'It's not that I got tired of comforting you! I feel sorry for what you've been through; I've always cared and I still do! But I explained to you last night, there's nothing I can do to help!'

'You do help me, Lettuce,' he murmurs. Argument is futile now; he just wants her to know.

She shakes her head.

'It would be fine if I'd grown up on your planet with you, and we'd both suffered the same. Then we could understand each other. Or if you could have just had a normal life like me. But this….we're not _lovers_, Pai-san. I'm like a child to you. Something precious. Not an equal.'

He stares into her swimming, crystalline, merciless eyes.

'I thought you loved me,' he whispers.

'I do.'

'Then why…?'

'Pai-san, I would do anything to make you happier. I would give you anything, anything at all. I'd even spend a lifetime's worth of time with you, but…but I don't believe in reincarnation. This time is all I have. So what am I going to do? Spend my entire life with the first man who's ever paid me the slightest bit of attention? Never know anything else?' Her eyes are shining with tears. 'I would give you anything but I won't…I won't give my life.'

He looks at her blankly. His face is frozen.

'Pai-san, please forgive me –'

He recoils from her hand, and her expression turns from one of supplication to anger. He knows why. It's because his face is wearing the same look it always did when he called humans selfish.

'Pai-san?' she invites.

'Nothing,' he says, in a tone that conveys '_I've thought better of it_,' rather than _'I had nothing to say_.' Because he will never patronise Retasu. He digs deep, and knows that he is master of himself for a few more moments, at any rate. Gathering his last reserves, he bows. 'Retasu, I apologise. I have demanded too much of you. Yes, I…of course I forgive you. Please…know that I am grateful…exceedingly grateful…for the time we have had. You were…truly dear to me.'

'Goodbye, Pai-san,' she whispers, her voice breaking. It seems unfair to him that she should have all the tears out of this, but he holds himself as she reaches for his hand and inclines her head. He closes his eyes. They share one last, cold little kiss.

And then she pulls away, and he's gone as fast as he possibly can.

* * *

Hours later he leans against the spire at the very top of Tokyo Tower, staring out over the darkening city. He remembers the last time he stood here: Deep Blue awakening, the panicked rallying of the Mew Mews with their candy-coloured hair, the structure of the city torn up and scattered like paper on the wind…his mood was dark then, too, but he was full of anticipation, apprehension and questions. Now he just feels empty.

How ironic. All those long years of guarding his body carefully and his heart more carefully still, only to fall victim to the single harmless, beautiful creature he ever let in, who turned out to be the most lethal enemy of all. _Foolish child. Of course a person has to lay hands on your heart before they can break it._

He's lost her. And the most bitter, laughable thing of all is that in truth he never had her. She wasn't a talisman locked away safely in his heart, she was an incandescent butterfly alighting on his shoulder, to be wondered at while she stayed and gone at her own choosing. And he, fool, forgot.

It's not that humans are selfish. _People _are selfish. He's surprised that it hurts him this much, seeing as he thought he already knew that, but until now he always had something perfect to hold up against the inadequacy of the world, to show that the values of generosity and love existed in their purest form. Retasu, the one who showed compassion even while she fought for her life, who begged for peace and always thought of others before herself. He supposes it's unfair to expect even paragons such as Lettuce to be entirely spotless. Surely she deserves just the occasional decision made for herself, instead of the rest of the world? Yes, he would be the selfish one to deny her that.

But the difference is in what it means to each of them. For Lettuce it is a single, forgivable lapse, which she can atone for as many times as she likes. For him, it is his whole life. The one thing he wanted for himself, snatched away.

And there is one thing that hurts more even than that. More even than never having had her in the first place would have hurt. And that is that his Midorikawa Retasu is gone. He thought she was perfect. Selfless. But she left him to please herself, because in the end, his Midorikawa Retasu is only human. The angel has vanished. The lifeline never existed. What he was clinging to was lovely, flawed, luscious and sinning, but his eyes only saw the loveliness. Was he really so blind to the one he thought he knew?

What does it matter? Whoever she is, she's gone, and he can't have her back.

He stands motionless at the top of the spire through all the hours of night, but when dawn begins to break he teleports away to that dim green dimension of broken pieces of things, where the cold voice and the dim blue orb used to give purpose to his life. He doesn't want to face the sun.

**A/N: I can't believe that was my first lemon ¬¬. **

**I don't know how much sense I made. I had it for a beautiful moment of clarity daydreaming in bed and then it vanished and I had to reconstruct it…and towards the end I was rushing because it's late and I want to post. **

_Gochisosama deshita – _a kind of thank you for the food spoken at the end of a meal.

_Kami_ – God

_Gomenasai_ – sorry

_Hai_ – yes

**True**


End file.
